as small as the world and as large as alone
by possibilist
Summary: "I just wanted..." He takes a step closer, reaches out his hand to touch her hair. "What?" he murmurs. The space between two heartbeats:  Maybe this time it'll be different.  She tells the truth: "You." Future CB, angsty, but with a happy ending.


Summary: "I just wanted..." He takes a step closer, reaches out his hand to touch her hair. "What?" he murmurs. The space between two heartbeats: (Maybe this time it'll be different.) She tells the truth: "_You_." Future CB, angsty, but with a happy ending.

AN (1): Recommended listening: **"The World Spins Madly On" by The Weepies**

AN (2): So, this is a little HappySummer! present to all of my faithful GG readers! :) This is a tough short short story, but I promise the ending is satisfying. It's very, very contemporary, so bare with the eccentricities, too. And, as always, I love to hear from you! Hope you're all doing well! x

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><p><strong>as small as the world and as large as alone<strong>

...

_teach our bodies: haunt the cause  
><em>_I was only trying to spell a loss  
>- <em>"Calgary" by Bon Iver

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><p>I.<p>

Did you know that when lovers kiss at the top of the Empire State Building during a thunderstorm, their lips crackle with electricity?

Serena shakes her head, eyeing her warily. Are you okay, B?

She ignores the question: I've heard it's the best part.

II.

Her mother calls on the Fourth of July.

We miss you, Eleanor says.

She smiles. I miss you, too, Mom. Then, a heartbeat, a breath, and, Did you know the Declaration of Independence was actually signed on the _first _of July?

No, I didn't know that.

Oh, she says, twisting a curl around her finger. Isn't it strange how the biggest things we celebrate aren't even what we should be happy about?

Eleanor says quietly, Maybe it's not strange at all.

III.

Louis runs his fingers over the hickey on her shoulder.

I want to go home, she whispers.

Okay.

She turns away from him. I have no idea where that is, she tells the dark.

It doesn't answer her back.

IV.

She's tired, a tired-that-no-amount-of-sleep-can-take-away tired.

A part of her wishes to have some medical reason for this, some real I'm-sick-and-now-I-can-be-one-of-those-inspirational-dying-people reason.

Are you depressed, Miss Waldorf? the doctor asks seriously.

All she can do is laugh.

V.

As it turns out, New York is orange at three in the morning.

Louis shakes her awake, frantic.

Is something on fire? His eyes are wide with fear.

She glances out the window, then buries her face in her pillows. No. That's just the light refracting off the air pollution, she mumbles.

The ache in her chest and pounding in her heart whispers, _You're lying all the time._

VI.

When she wakes up, she can't breathe.

There are IVs and beeps and Serena with tears streaming down her face.

B, she sobs into her hair. Blair, why didn't you tell me it was this bad?

Her entire abdomen feels like it's been run over with a truck - she knows they succeeded in getting the overdose of meds out of her system that way - so she doesn't figure she has to answer.

Serena straightens up, cocks her head to the side, wipes her tears, takes a deep breath. You know, I think if you'd really wanted to kill yourself, you would've succeeded. You're Blair Waldorf.

For the first time in months, she has to smile.

VII.

Louis helps her onto the couch.

This is because of me, he whispers.

She stares out at the snow. No. It was because of me.

Her entire body protests. She tells herself it's because she just had her stomach pumped.

VIII.

She gets frustrated the third time the braid comes out wrong, her hands shaking.

She fights tears that she knows are _so long overdue_.

It's a flurry of anger and fear and hate, and the antique hairdresser's scissors on her vanity find themselves in her hand.

She cuts blindly and sobs and soon Louis comes in and stands there, staring.

Then he takes her in his arms. She doesn't fight him.

After they come back from her absolutely mortified hairdresser a few hours later, fresh with an Audrey-esque pixie, she feels her heart tearing.

Maybe this time she thinks she'll listen to it.

IX.

I can't do this anymore, Louis whispers. I can't do this to you.

He brushes aside her bangs and kisses her forehead.

She says, with all her heart, Thank you.

X.

You tried to kill yourself, Blair. His voice breaks on her name.

Chuck. It takes her breath away.

How could you _do_ that?

She shakes her head. I just wanted...

He takes a step closer, reaches out his hand to touch her hair. What? he murmurs.

The space between two heartbeats: (Maybe this time it'll be different.)

She tells the truth: _You_.

XI.

The water drips from the tip of her nose, but she wants to feel the rain. Putting her hands on the railing, she senses each bolt of lightning.

You broke my heart, she says to the storm.

You broke my heart, too, it answers.

She turns around. He doesn't have an umbrella either.

Her steps towards him (_away from the edge, away from the edge, away from the edge_) match her heartbeats.

Her breath meets his. He holds her like he knows that she's broken before and that she could certainly break again. He runs his fingers through her short curls, he murmurs her name.

The electricity is everywhere.

They weren't lying: their lips are on fire. She thinks, It really is the best part.

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><p>AN: Review? Please? Thanks a bunch, friends!<p> 


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